My job used to be an anchor for me. When did it get to be this mouse wheel that buries me? Slowly, but surely … .
I was sitting this morning contemplating possibly connecting about this with an individual who might really get what I am feeling and be able to offer some words of encouragement and advice and I am so scared by the fact that I cannot think of anyone. And not because I don’t have people around me who care. I am very fortunate that I do. Mostly because of my inner gremlins telling me I should shut up, that I am paid well for Romania, that other people have it so much worse around the world and that I am getting stuck on a champagne problem. And maybe I am … .
The thing is, that spark that I used to get when working is important to me. Vital. I went from thinking about and designing conferences, campaigns and strategies to being a glorified assistant to a community that really expects 150% and has no real appreciation for it. I haven’t learned anything new in a long time. I have not engaged in meaningful, fruitful actions. I do the same things every day, talk about things I don’t necessarily recognise or believe in any longer and pretend … for the most part, that everything is ok. Not sure which one is harder.
I keep telling myself (and have been for a LONG while) that something will happen. That something will snap and that I will find my groove again. And time passes and things move on in the same manner and in the same vein and I get more and more depleated.
The last time I was here, the ending was abrupt. A kick start to a new life, but abrupt. Not sure how I will handle this at 42. Kind of expected this to be the peak and instead … it is something I cannot even define.
My heart is heavy and my smile absent today. This situation makes me think of that dream that I know most of us sometime have, where we know we are talking but no sound is coming out. There has got to be more somewhere … I just can’t reach it.